


Inner Veela

by glacis



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-30
Updated: 2010-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-06 20:52:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glacis/pseuds/glacis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucius surrenders to his inner Veela.  Remus is surprised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inner Veela

_Inner Veela, by seeker.  From an idea by Selene la Luna for the HarryxLucius FQF. _

It was absolutely ridiculous.

It couldn’t have happened at a worse time.

Lucius Malfoy stared through the eye-holes of his terrifying white mask at the swirl of Aurors and Death Eaters engaged in bloody battle, and wondered why this sort of thing always happened to him.  Even when he was a child, it was always the inappropriate urge at the wrong time in the wrong place with the predictable results.

Bollixed-up plans.  Sudden left turns in the supposedly smooth course of his life.  A rock at his toe to send him flat on his nose.  A riptide in the bath tub.

Well, there was nothing for it but to do it.  One couldn’t fight one’s nature, after all.  If one did, one ended up raving mad, frothing at the mouth, with a permanent erection, strapped to a cot in the lower reaches of the psychiatric isolation ward for Unusual Magical Species at St. Mungo’s.

At least, one did, if one were Lucius Malfoy.

Who had to deal with his inner Veela.

In heat.

Fixated on a bloody werewolf.

Who was about to get avada-kedavra-ed by Voldemort in a heroic if incredibly stupid attempt to protect Harry Potter.  How drearily Gryffindorish.

Lucius sighed.  Punched McNair in the head to get him out of the way, and leveled his wand.  Baby Potter had shown the standard ways of offing wizards didn’t work with his Lordship, so Lucius went with the older, tried and true way.

“Decido cedere!” he screamed, Veela-lung-power ensuring that his voice carried over all the chaos of battle.  For an instant, everyone froze.

Then Voldemort, an exquisite expression of astonishment on his face, imploded in an untidy heap of black draperies and gray dust, an instant before he could kill Lucius’ chosen mate.

Death Eaters stood frozen, looking at the pile of dirty clothes that had until a moment before been their Ruler.  Aurors stood with their wands drooping, staring at the man who had a moment ago been their enemy, before turning the enemy leader into a pile of dirty clothes.

“We surrender,” Lucius proclaimed calmly.

Potter shook his head, muttered, “About fucking time,” turned on his heel and marched off the field.  The rest of the crowd milled about in confusion.  Lucius ignored all of them, pausing only to stupefy one idiot Auror who had the gall to try to apprehend him, and stalked up to Remus Lupin.

“I don’t like this any better than you do,” Lucius stated.

Remus looked at him as if he’d lost his mind (much the same way everyone else on the field of battle was looking at him).  Lucius sighed again, clamped one hand round the back of Remus’ neck, and hauled him in for a deep, long, wet, very thorough kiss.

His inner Veela cheered.

His inner paranoiac, that had kept him alive for years playing the Dark side of the pitch,  sent up a warning flare.  Not bothering to look around to see who was trying to kill him now, since it could be anyone from Sirius Black to Peter Pettigrew (and wasn’t that a pair? his internal commentary with comedic delusions snarked), Lucius broke the kiss long enough to gasp for breath and whisper, “Amplexus Manor centrus.”

With his peripheral vision he saw a plethora of hexes, curses and binding spells heading their way.  The thought of the mess they’d make when they collided had him laughing as he and his chosen one (damned instincts, anyway!) apparated into the middle of his bedroom.

He was still laughing when a blow caught him on the jaw and sent him sprawling flat on his arse.  His tongue flickered out to taste the blood on his lip where he’d bitten himself, as he gazed, wide-eyed, up at a wild-eyed, fist-clenched, utterly ravishing if rather discombobulated Remus Lupin.

His inner Veela stopped cheering and started drooling.

Lucius was in motion before he could give it a thought.  He shot to his feet, clamped his hands around Remus’ shoulders, and pulled him into an unbreakable embrace.

Remus broke it, shoving Lucius hard enough to send him back on his arse in the middle of the floor.

Oh.  Right.  Werewolf.  Enhanced strength.  Pissed off and confused werewolf.  Highly enhanced strength.

Lucius’ inner Veela gave a battle cry and surfaced.

Remus blanched.

Lucius didn’t care.  His driving motivations were to claim and to mate.  Besides, he was horny, not angry, so he didn’t resemble a giant [Red Kite with an attitude problem](glacis/minehtml/redkite.jpeg).  No, he reverted to the original form of the Veela.*

It would seem that Remus had never before been accosted by a tall, slender, incredibly beautiful, amorous, pure white magical being with flashing eyes and out flung arms.  Or perhaps he thought he was going to die; if Remus remembered his lessons in Magical Creatures, such a misconception was a distinct possibility.  Not that he was about to die.

Well, only a little death.

Lucius laughed, the sound echoing like waves crashing on a beach.  Remus paled further, if possible.  Not wanting to scare his chosen (even if Lucius hadn’t actually had a choice in the matter) all the way to death before he had the chance to get the man naked, Lucius stopped laughing, sped up, and pushed Remus up against the wall.

Right next to the bed.

Perfect.

Wrapping both arms tightly around Remus so he couldn’t escape, Lucius attacked his mouth again, delving in deeply enough to rob them both of breath.  Remus struggled, quite an exciting development, really, since his werewolf strength allowed him to actually move in the embrace of an aroused Veela.  Had he been a normal wizard he’d’ve been crushed to paste by then.

Perhaps instinct knew what it was doing, after all.

Exulting in allowing himself the full range of his gifts, Lucius surrendered to his inner flaming fairy --er, Veela--, and tipped his chosen wolf right over sideways onto the nice firm bed with the nice satin sheets.

With enough force to send them both sliding right across the top of the nice firm mattress to land on the opposite side of the nice big bed, tangled in the nice satin top sheet.

Remus was gasping for breath by now, but Lucius wasn’t certain if it was the crushing embrace, the wild slide, or a vain attempt to stop laughing hard enough to break a rib.  It certainly wasn’t arousal, as even through the robe, trousers, shirt hem, and undershorts, he could feel Remus’ prick, and it wasn’t the least bit hard.

Not the way Lucius had expected claiming his mate to go.  He huffed.  Kissed Remus again.  Muttered some choice Latin under his breath, and when he was finished cursing, muttered the spell to get them both naked.

That got a reaction, though not quite what Lucius hoped.  Remus squeaked, then growled, squirming deliciously against him.  Oh, yes, the growl was a promising sign!

“WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” Remus then screamed directly into Lucius’ delicately pointed ear.

It was enough to momentarily deafen him, and the Outer Veela shrieked, retreating in disarray at the vehemently negative response from his Chosen.

Fortuitously, this allowed the Inner Wizard to come back to the fore, because if there was one thing Lucius Malfoy knew how to do, it was seduce a lover.  Taking advantage of Remus’ momentary paralysis, a combination of utter shock, helpless laughter, and complete denial, Lucius kissed him.

From the head of his prick all the way down to his balls.

With one lick.

Remus squeaked again.

Taking this as a positive sign, Lucius upped the ante.  He insinuated his hands between Remus’ thighs and began to massage his arse.  Top to bottom, outside to inside, all the way in.  At the same time he began to swallow rhythmically as he slid the lovely long fat prick down his throat, then up until the crown barely broke his lips, lapping along the head until it finally began to leak, then dipping all the way back down again.

Remus was growling, again.  As compulsively as his hands clutched at Lucius’ hair and his groin rocked between Lucius’ hands and face.  It was reassuring, not that Lucius would admit to any minor, temporary crisis of confidence.

It was simply that few people ever saw the true face of the Veela, and the few that did always ran away.  Always.  Even other Veela ran, which was why there were so many half-Veela running around and so few pure Veela left in existence.  So the fact that Remus was humping instead of running was very encouraging.

The scream he gave when he came was even more encouraging.  Positively empowering.  Damned exciting.

Lucius drew back, licking the last dribbles away as he did, leaving a clean, shiny, exhausted prick to flop against Remus’ thigh.  He kept his fingers buried in Remus’ arse, though.  In part because he really, really wanted to fuck Remus, and in part because when Remus came he’d clamped down so hard it was a wonder he hadn’t pinched Lucius’ fingers right off, and the pressure hadn’t relaxed any in the afterglow.

This could be a problem.

Reaching up with his free hand, Lucius unwound Remus’ fists from his hair, wincing at the state of his usually immaculate coiffure.  He’d have to tend to that later, with at least a long hot oil treatment (possibly one of the new Lockhart's Glorious Locks treatments, he'd been dying to try one anyway), or he’d have frizzy ends, and he hated frizzy ends.  A nudge against his belly derailed his train of thought.

Perhaps there was a reason for the vise in which his fingers were trapped.  From the look of the newly-arisen erection bouncing against him, the wolf had stamina as well as strength.  Lucius’ inner Veela came out of hiding long enough to whimper happily, then Lucius found himself flat on his back, fingers still caught up Remus’ fundament, legs flung over Remus’ shoulders.

The awkward position pulled Lucius’ torso back, trapping his arm behind him beneath their bodies, making it impossible to move.  He considered muttering a spell to untangle them, but before he could remember the correct verb tense Remus gave a noise that could only be called a yelp and plunged his prick all the way up Lucius’ arse.

Lucius’ unstretched, seldom-plumbed, hadn’t-been-fucked-in-so-long-it-was-practically-virgin arse.

It wasn’t a yelp Lucius gave.  More a blood-curdling scream.

Perhaps licking Remus' prick so thoroughly clean had been a mistake.  Lucius would have appreciated a little lubrication prior to impalement.

His free hand grabbed the back of Remus’ head by the thick shaggy hair and held on for dear life.  His trapped hand was pulled and pushed, forearm rubbing the back of his balls as it was wrenched along for the ride.  His spine twisted and jolted, his head banged against the floor, his hip joints felt like they were permanently sprung, and the heft of the prick that had seemed decently sized but not overpowering going down his throat felt like a bloody barge as it reamed him from his arsehole clear up to his heart.

Undignified, awkward, messy and contorted as it was, it was still the best fucking he’d ever gotten in his life.

Remus had both hands on Lucius’ arse cheeks, spreading them as far as he could, pumping into him as hard and as deep as he could go.  With every thrust, Lucius groaned.  His prick rubbed against the wiry fur on Remus’ belly, and every time Remus rammed into him, a spurt of come bubbled out the end of Lucius' prick.  Staring blindly up at the ceiling as Remus rocked into him, Lucius tried to remember how to breathe, only to forget instantly when Remus latched onto a nipple with his teeth and started to chew.

It was incredible.  It was too much.  Pained pleasure at his arse, pleasurable pain at his chest, not enough pressure at his prick, and he couldn’t do a bloody thing about any of it.  Lucius had never realized how much fun it was to be powerless.

Then again, since he’d never allowed himself to be rendered powerless except around Voldemort, which couldn't be classified as fun under any circumstances, his ignorance was to be expected.

“Pull it,” Remus grunted in his ear, confusing Lucius, who was still a few steps behind in the proceedings, thinking Remus was still biting his nipple.  Lucius stared uncomprehendingly at him.

“Hhm?” he murmured.  Remus bared his teeth in a feral smile.

“Your prick.  Pull it.  Come for me.”

The words alone nearly did the trick.  Lucius swallowed hard, then yanked his hand out of Remus’ hair and pushed it between their bodies.  The changed angle put more pressure on the hand still buried in Remus’ arse, and weirdly enough the additional strain brought Lucius even closer to orgasm.  Wrapping his fingers around his prick, he stroked once, hard, as Remus pumped into him and held his position.

God.  Arse stuffed full of hard cock so far up him he could feel it in his throat, hands clamped by Remus’ hole and slimy with his own spunk, chest still on fire from the ghost of sharp teeth, bones balanced between twisted completely out of position and melted into mush ... it was really no wonder Lucius came hard enough to black out.

An indeterminate time later, his inner Veela still satiated to the point of unconsciousness, Lucius opened his eyes.  Found himself staring directly into gold-flecked amber eyes staring right back at him.

Got hard.  Instantly.

The somber, searching expression disappeared as Remus grinned at him.  Showing teeth.

Lucius got harder.

“So,” Remus purred, an odd thing for a wolf to do but also oddly compelling, “is this how you treat all your enemies?  Or am I special?”

In response, Lucius humped up into Remus’ warm groin, and made the serendipitous discovery that he wasn’t the only one in the bed with an erection.  He grinned back, showing his own teeth.  Remus' erection jerked against his.

They were so well-matched.

“Very special,”  Lucius purred right back.  Looping his arms around Remus’ neck, Lucius spread his legs, wrapped them around Remus’ hips and pulled him down until they could rub those erections against one another.  Hard enough to cause spontaneous combustion.  “Unique, in fact.  And all mine.”

Remus said something that sounded vaguely like, “Is that so?” but Lucius was too busy coming to care.  They’d sort out the details later.

Right at the moment, he had an awakening inner Veela to deal with, and he knew just the wolf to do it.

END

* Vila - Slavic. The vila was a beautiful white fairy who decided the destiny of newborn children and often warned people when they were about to die.


End file.
